


Snape's Drunk Adventure

by hogwartsbabes97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 14:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17326403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsbabes97/pseuds/hogwartsbabes97
Summary: After Albus Severus Potter is sorted into Slytherin, Snape retaliates by going on a drunken adventure. Snape and Dumbledore both live!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was lovingly created to be extremely outrageous and lewd. We hope you enjoy it.

SHEVERUS WAS PISSHED AGAIN. It was all the boys fault. Three entire generations of Potter's trying to fuck with him was a good enough excuse to get completely sloshed. Perhaps his judgement was a bit hazy, because he definitely should not have been sneaking into the Headmaster's office, and he most definitely should not have been holding the Sorting Hat in one hand and his knob in the other. But he needed revenge for what the hat had done, and at the moment his Slytherin intellect was clouded by the four, no five, fine, the eight glasses of fire whiskey he had consumed after the sorting ceremony. Severus was planning on peeing on the Headmaster's desk, for surely the old meddler had put the hat up to it, and he intended the hat to watch the act and feel threatened. Wait that didn't make sense. Maybe he would just take a nap under the Headmaster's desk and call it a night until he could take more sensible action. Suddenly, Severus had other ideas as the last of the fire whiskey entered his bladder. Fuck it, with his knob already out Severus peed into the Sorting Hat and suppressed a giggle as the brim of the hat opened in shock and began gurgling on his piss.

After shaking out the last few golden drops, Severus retrieved his flask and with a grand gesture towards the Headmaster's desks he toasted: "TO ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER, THE NEWEST ADDITION TO SLYTHERIN, OUR NEW CELEBRITY, AND A ROYAL THORN UP MY GREASY ASS! HERE IS TO THE NEXT 7 YEARS!"

Using the last of his energy Severus collapsed over top of the Headmaster's desk with his cock still in hand and the sorting hat loudly weeping in song.

* * *

  
"Ah, he is so cute when he is sleeping, don't you think Minerva?"

"I've seen quite enough! Cut the nonsense Albus, let’s wake him up and deal with this mess. How you continue to tolerate this behaviour from him is beyond me. He is not a boy anymore!"

"I trust Severus, and I trust that he will emerge from this as dignified as ever. Besides, this school needs a scary potions master or it just wouldn't be a magical school!"

"Albus not this argument again."

With her back facing Severus, Minerva pointed her wand over her shoulder and cast _rennervate_ multiple times hoping to hit the potions master without having to see his pork sword again. She had seen enough wang in her sixty years as Head of Gryffindor that the sight of one would make her gag this early in the morning.

Across the room on the Headmaster's desk, Severus began to stir as Dumbledore skipped around the room opening curtains and allowing the morning light to reflect with a sparkle off the urine soaked floor.

"Good morning Severus! Might I suggest you straighten yourself out and join me for a tea and a lemon drop?" Dumbledore eyed his lemon drops suspiciously noting how they clumped together and illuminated a certain dampness.

"Or perhaps not…"

Severus winced at the gleeful and cheeky tone from the old bastard. His head was pounding as he struggled to piece together how he had ended up in the Headmaster's office.

"Who peed on me?"

Continuing to have her back towards him, Minerva responded: " _Scourgify. Scourgify!_ I have had quite enough of your behaviour Severus! The Headmaster may find your behaviour amusing but I won't stand for this unprofessionalism. Albus something must be done! Even the Weasley twins in their time would not have demonstrated such blatant disrespect for a magical artifact."

Suddenly serious, Dumbledore sank into his chair whilst carefully checking for more traces of Severus’ night.

"I agree with Minerva, Severus. The state that you left the Sorting Hat in was unacceptable. I seldom resort to obliviation on such objects but it was necessary. I cannot predict the consequences such a spell will have on the hat. We won't know until the next sorting. I trust that you will be able to move on from this incident and continue teaching, but I do agree that disciplinary action is called for. I think it would be reasonable to request that you make an effort to welcome Albus Severus properly into the Slytherin house. He carries your name after all! It might do you well to get to know the boy."

Severus could not believe what he was hearing. Hopefully he was still plastered and would wake up from this nightmare very soon. He pinched his arm. Nothing happened. He slapped himself full on in the face. Nothing happened. Perhaps the pain was not severe enough to pull him out of this state. He punched himself in his exposed bollocks and immediately vomited on the marble floor. THIS WAS FUCKING REALITY. Resigning to his situation, Severus pulled himself up and tried to radiate his usual authority, purposefully ignoring the soup of his bodily fluids on the floor.

"Headmaster I cannot."

Ignoring the absurdity of what she had just seen, Minerva continued: "Severus the Headmaster is being more than reasonable! Exceptionally lax… If it were up to me… No. Regardless, none of us can take another repeat of your behaviour with Mr. Potter! This needs to stop."

Severus covered his face with his hands, pressing his fingers into his eyes willing himself to concentrate. A repeat of his time with Potter. No wonder he had gotten so drunk last night, the idea was almost impossibly infuriating to entertain.

"Headmaster there must be something else. Anything, I'll do anything."

"He has her eyes Severus. If you ever truly loved her…"

"Oh not this bullshit again! I won't do it Albus! I would sooner live as a muggle."

"Oh Severus I think that is a marvellous idea! Embracing your half-blood heritage, doing a bit of soul searching, it is very sweet! How could I not honour this request?"

Dumbledore twiddled his moustache, did a little jig, clicked his heels in the air, and jabbed his wand in the air whilst screaming ABRACADABRA! The room went deathly quiet after this show of madness. But there was also a certain absence to be felt...

"What have you done you old fool!" Severus bellowed. A single tear feel from Dumbledore's ever twinkling eyes.

"I'm sorry to have done it Severus, but it was necessary. We must all face the choice between what is right, and what is easy. For you, it was easier to have walked out on the wizarding world than to face your past. I hope that in time you will be given the opportunity to choose again, and at that time we may meet again."


	2. Chapter 2

Severus Snape stepped discreetly out of the red Ministry telephone booth and into muggle London, desperately trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the urge to vomit in a nearby trash can.

Damn that old codger for taking away my magic and my neatly hidden stash of Pepper-Up potion, he sulked.

While Snape had been on quite a few fire whisky-induced benders in the last few weeks, he had mercifully been saved from the effects of his drinking through a combination of spells and potions. Unfortunately, he was now left to deal with it the muggle way, with the first order of business to be alleviating the BLOODY POUNDING IN HIS HEAD, made worse by the loud sounds of the city and the bright sunshine.

"What a grand fucking day for London to get some sun," Snape snarled as he strode towards the nearest convenience store, swirling his cloak like a great black bat and effectively scaring away the muggles who stood in his path. He shoved the door open and the bell jingled wildly. Slipping past the counter he glared at the middle-aged shopkeeper, who had barely glanced up from the news, and walked quickly towards a rack of black sunglasses, which were appalling but would have to do. He snatched a pair of knock-off Oakley sunglasses, the ones popular with muggle dads the world over, and took them over to the cash. Remembering the noise, Snape quickly grabbed the last pair of earmuffs on a rack labelled £1.99. They were pink with a white cat on them, he grimaced, "Oh stuff it. They are for function, not style." He slammed his wares down on the cash, handing over what little muggle money he had, and then storming out into the streets once more. Now clad in his sporty sunglasses and Umbridge-reminiscent earmuffs he set off to do what he had to do – find a job. How hard could it be?

He, Severus Snape, was an esteemed potions master. He had taught children for over fifteen years, he sneered, despicable creatures. He walked briskly through the streets as he approached his destination, Regent Comprehensive School. Upon reaching the building he removed his sunglasses and earmuffs, bracing himself for the activity within. Snape passed through the front doors and was met with a wall of sound, students on their lunch break. He looked around, spotting a door labelled "Office" and made a swift beeline towards it, shutting the door behind him to block out the clamour. He looked around, noting the drab green of the carpet and faded yellow walls. The room contained three chairs along the wall, two of which were currently occupied by two solemn-looking year ten boys, and one desk for the school's secretary.

"Good Afternoon sir, how may I help you?" the secretary, a young blond woman with brown eyes and a softness about her, smiled up at him.

Inappropriately cheerful twit, he thought to himself. He attempted to return her smile, baring his teeth in an odd, and quite terrifying, grimace. "Yes hello, I would like to apply for a job here."

The secretary's eyes grew wide, "I'm sorry sir but we are not advertising for employment at the moment, and besides, you would have to talk with the Dean…" she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

How taxing. "Well, if you would let me talk to this Dean then…Amy," he ground out, glancing down at her staff badge, "I am sure we would be able to come to some sort of… understanding." He glared down at her, putting on a strong performance of his one-man 'greasy dungeon bat' act.

Looking slightly cowed, Amy picked up the phone, "Hello Dean Winters, there is a man here to inquire about a job… yes… no sir he seems very, um, insistent," she cast a nervous smile up at Snape, "Yes sir, I will let him know."

Placing the receiver down, Amy asked him to take a seat in the third chair. As it turned out, the Dean had a moment to meet with him after all. Snape smirked, he could be quite persuasive.

As he sat down the boys next to him started whispering to one another. He swore he heard the words "greasy wanker" and so, in true Snape fashion, he turned, fixing them with an icy glare. Both boys froze in their seats, but they soon overcame their initial fear, returning his glare. What impertinence… and no magic with which to dole out punishment. Snape glanced towards the table on his right, spotting a variety of newspapers and a magazine. Ah, this will do. He looked furtively at Amy, who was staring at her computer screen, absorbed in her work. Snape rolled up one of the magazines into a hard tube, then turned toward the snickering boys, dealing each a blow across the back of the head.

"OWW," they cried, leaping up from their seats. At this moment, Dean Winters walked out of his office, greeted by the sight of the two boys clutching their heads and howling about the madman that stood next to them, posed to strike again with his makeshift bat.

"Ahem," the Dean cleared his throat, alerting the others to his presence. Snape immediately dropped his paper weapon, clutching his hands behind his back.

"Freddie, Albert, remain seated, I will deal with your antics soon enough. And you sir, please follow me," he said, beckoning Snape into his office. Winters had decided he would entertain the inane notions of the greasy, long-haired, crackpot man in the billowy black dress with the hopes that he could convince him to leave.

Seated across the large mahogany desk, Dean Winters turned to Snape. "So what type of position are you looking to find at Regent School Mr…?" he trailed off, not knowing the greasy bat's name.

"It's Severus Snape," Snape informed the portly, balding man across the desk. "I would like to take up the position of po… uh chemistry professor at your school."

"And what are your qualifications Mr. Snape? May I see your CV?"

"I have my mastery in chemistry, and I have taught at a private establishment in Scotland for over fifteen years – I hardly think I need more qualification than that to teach at this… illustrious institution," Snape drawled, looking indignant. "And what in Merlin's name is a CV?"

 _Merlin? No CV?_ Winters thought, _looking decidedly confused. Ahhh. Just another new age hippie with a weird name, all self-righteous in the face of his own incompetence. I lived though the sixties, I KNOW about new age bravado. No room in this school for a greasy, pot-smoking, pagan chemistry teacher. These millennials are fucked up enough without a crunchy brother of peace teaching them how to cook crystal meth._

Dean Winters sat up straighter in his seat, "That is all I need to hear Mr. Snape," he ground out.

"Does this mean I am now in your employ, sir?" Snape inquired, looking rather impressed with himself.

The Dean stood abruptly. "ABSOLUTELY NOT YOU NEW AGE PIECE OF GRANOLA. WHAT KIND OF NAME IS SEVERUS ANYWAYS? PROBABLY SOME PAGAN GARBAGE." He pinched the top of his nose, breathing in deeply. "I suggest you apply for a job somewhere you are more qualified… perhaps a vegan coffee shop?"

While Severus Snape did not have a clue what a vegan coffee shop was, he was deeply offended by Dean Winter's suggestion that he was unqualified to teach in such a hideous muggle school – HIM – an illustrious potions professor!

"How DARE you question my abilities you useless old fool!" Well this felt familiar. "I challenge you to a duel, and at your defeat you will admit my skill!" he snarled.

"A duel you say, looks like this hippie has put too much stock in the romantic words of Pushkin!" Winters shot back.

Just as Snape was about to pull his wand, planning to curse the infuriating man into the next century (forgetting his magic ban), Dumbledore apparated straight into the office, obliviating the Dean and pulling Severus into a side-along back to Hogwarts.

Back in the Headmaster's office Snape broke down, chanting about the unfairness of it all and that "mean git old codger" who belittled his excellence. Dumbledore cradled his greasy head against his chest, stroking his back and assuring him that he was okay.

Once Snape had calmed down, again assuming his air of indifference, he and Dumbledore sat down to discuss his adventure.

"Well you see Albus, the man insulted my skill."

Dumbledore held up a hand, "I gathered as much Severus, but after years of serving the Dark Lord I would have thought you could take much more than insults from a traditional old man."

Snape grumbled, "Yes I thought so too, but he insinuated that I would be better off making muggles their fancy coffee – at a VEGAN coffee shop nonetheless. I don't know what that is, but he made it seem much worse than the others."

"Ah yes, vegans," said Dumbledore knowingly, eyes twinkling as he took a bite of a date brownie.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some excerpts from The Philosophers Stone.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Minerva navigated away from the swarm of first years and took her seat next to Dumbledore at the head table. It had been a full year since the episode with Severus and she nervously set her sight on the Sorting Hat willing the ceremony to go off without a hitch. There was no research about the effects of obliviation on magical artifacts. What would the school do without a functioning sorting hat? She loathed the idea of having to administer a written personality test to the first years. The extra marking would push her right over the edge. Oh and the appeals to change houses! She wouldn't have it. She would sooner live as a muggle than deal with the paperwork...

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

I've done this job for centuries

On every student's head I've sat

Of thoughts I take inventories

For I'm the famous Sorting Hat

But this year things are different

But please don't dare tell your parents!

So come up don't be scared

For this year I have declared

That what I need most to decide your fates

Requires you to generate

SWEET GOLDEN NECTAR

YES PEE IN MY MOUTH

OH YA THE SORTING LIKES THAT

STICK YOUR WILLY IN ME

SIT ON MY FACE

LET ME TASTE WHERE YOU BELONG

"Oh dear," Minerva muttered.

"Fuck," hissed Severus.

Dumbledore merely chuckled, the crazy old coot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was our first story which was written in one laughter and insanity fueled afternoon. We would greatly appreciate if you left kudos or a review. 
> 
> Warmth,
> 
> The authors

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Eliezer Yudkowsky the author of HPMOR for inspiration in writing dialogue for Dumbledore. Thank you for your genius!


End file.
